


Provocateur

by Valeria2067



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bondlock, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeria2067/pseuds/Valeria2067
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond knows something about John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. He just has to find a way to prove it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Provocateur

Bond knows something John doesn't know.

Well, something John chooses to hide from himself.

Bond knows --he knows within the first five minutes of seeing the men together-- that former Army Captain John H.Watson is in love with this Sherlock Holmes.

Obviously, there is attraction. John could never resist a sensuous mouth, a lush arse, beautiful eyes, high cheekbones... not on man or a woman.

So why the bloody hell is John denying himself a go at this tall, dark, gorgeous specimen? John "Three Continents Watson" could win anyone into his bed (or tent, or jeep), and most of them came back again and again, eager for more.

What could be holding him back?

The tall, dark, gorgeous specimen in question walks over to the sofa and (reluctantly, Bond thinks) hands him a martini.

"John insisted upon making this himself. Shaken, not stirred."

Oh, now... is that a touch of jealousy in the deep, velvet voice? Christ, they're both mad for each other, the poor bastards.

Bond smiles back wickedly. "Well, he does know just what I like...And how I like it. It's a talent of his, wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm sure I haven't bothered to notice, Commander. One of John's strengths is assisting me without causing distractions." Sherlock's shoulders straighten, and his chin raises higher.

"Ah. Well, I'm impressed, Mr Holmes. Not everyone has the discipline to avoid John's particular brand of distraction," he takes a long sip of his martini, not once letting his gaze drop from Sherlock's. "I suppose your brothers weren't exaggerating when they said you were frigid."

Sherlock's nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. Impossibly-coloured eyes begin to burn with... indignation? Embarrassment? 

Bond moves quickly, like the highly-trained field agent he is, setting down his drink, standing up, grasping Sherlock around the waist and behind the neck, pulling him close, then sideways and down a bit, and finally kissing him like Sherlock is a surprised nurse and Bond is an exuberant sailor who just heard that the war is ending.

"Sherlock, if he's telling you Afghanistan stories, don't lis--" John's voice cuts off raggedly. 

Bond breaks off the kiss. He smiles at John.

"What the BLOODY HELL are you doing?" John bellows.

Sherlock rights himself, teeters just a bit, and appears to be calculating how much speed and force it would take to break the martini glass in two and drive the stem of it into Bond's left eye. 

"Sorry, Watson. I didn't know you'd staked a claim, yet, mate." He keeps himself from laughing at the wide-eyed stares the other two men hastily exchange.

"Claim? I... Look, just shut it, damn you, James. You assaulted my friend, in my own flat, for Christ's sake. I should beat the bloody--"

"Be quiet, John." Sherlock holds up a hand dismissively. 'He was merely attempting to prove a point. And he was doing so with all the subtlety I've come to expect from the current band of morons at MI-6."

"Now, now, Mr. Holmes. You'll hurt your little brother's feelings if he finds out. Don't want him weeping into billions of pounds' worth of tech." Bond smiles again and straightens his tie.

"And the point? What's the fucking point?" 

"Well, that's my question exactly, Watson. Be honest, now, John. Why haven't you had him, yet?"

John's eyes grow even wider, and his face begins to redden. 

"Yes, John, " Sherlock chimes in; "why haven't you? It usually takes you no longer than a week before you bed one of your many insipid girlfriends. I imagine you only wait that long out of some antiquated idea of chivalry, which in my case is neither appropriate nor expected. You clearly feel attracted to me, yet you vehemently deny any sexual feelings for males whatsoever..."

"Look, John, I merely--"

"...A habit which only emphasizes your discomfort at the newfound intensity of those feelings. And just within the past ten seconds you've looked at my mouth six times..."

"Christ, is he always like this?"

John closes his eyes in defeat. "Yes."

"...And licked your own lips twice as frequently as is normal for you. Shall I go on?"

"Please don't. Can you please, please not do this in front of James? Jesus..."

Bond laughs and claps a hand on John's shoulder. "Don't worry, John. I've got it nearly as bad back at home. Though I did finally discover a way to shut mine up."

"Right. Well, then. Thank you for this, James. I truly, truly hate you right now. I hope you go home and find both of Sherlock's brothers discussing you in intimate detail, you bloody bastard."

"My pleasure, John." Bond steals a quick look up and down the long, sensuous lines of his own lover's older brother. "And I hope it will be yours, too. soon enough."

**Author's Note:**

> A Secret Santa gift for thesupernyvaattack.tumblr.com


End file.
